


Open Hearts

by lotus0kid



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Rumbelle Secret Santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotus0kid/pseuds/lotus0kid
Summary: Rumpelstiltskin has reforged Excalibur, and a prophecy about what he might do with his new invincibility leads the fairies to collect every person who has a pure heart.  Belle is one of those people.





	Open Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2017 Rumbelle Secret Santa, using princeslytherin1's prompt "Kingdom Hearts adaptation for Rumbelle". Hope this works for you!

The greatest nightmare of the Enchanted Forest has come true.  The Dark One breached Camelot, stole the broken blade of Excalibur, and reforged it with his dagger into one perfect weapon.  The Dark One is now uncontrollable.  Unstoppable.  Unkillable.

It’s as if a shadow has fallen over the world.  All of the fairies swarm together, consolidating their power in the hopes of preventing total destruction.  Trade and travel cease, everyone huddling in their homes grasping their loved ones close.  The faithful pack the temples, begging their gods to save them.  Foolish kings amass armies.  Wise kings don’t bother.  Even the feud between Queen Regina and Snow White goes cold.  The world holds its breath, waiting in terror for the Dark One’s reign of terror to begin.

Days pass.  Weeks pass.  Months pass.  Nothing happens.  Those brave or suicidal enough to approach the Dark Castle report its silence and stillness.

Then the fairies announce the existence of a horrifying prophecy.  If the newly empowered Dark One gains possession of a pure heart, he will break the barriers between worlds, spreading his corruption through the whole of reality.  They promptly cast a spell to detect all of the people with pure hearts in the Enchanted Forest, in order to round them up and take them to a protected place.

“What?  You can’t be serious,” Belle exclaims, staring in shock at the fairy where she floats above the balcony of her bedroom, looking like a star that drifted down from the night sky.

“Please, Lady Belle!” the fairy implores, “If you stay, you’ll put all of the worlds in danger!”

Well, she can hardly argue against that.  “I... I need to tell my parents.”

The fairy floats behind her as she hurries through the halls, lighting the way so she doesn’t need a candle.  She pushes into the lord’s chambers, her guts squirming with guilt and fear and burgeoning sorrow as she steps up to the bed where Lord Maurice and Lady Colette slumber.  Their faces look even more innocent and peaceful in the fairy’s soft, pale light.

“Mother, Father, wake up,” she forces herself to say, “Wake up, please!”

They stir, squinting and blinking at their shining visitor.  Soon enough, grief fills Colette’s face and she murmurs, “Oh no.  No, not Belle.”

Belle rushes around the bed to take her mother’s hands.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t want to go, but...”

“I know, dear, I know.”  Colette lowers her head, and two tears slip down her cheeks.

Maurice reaches over to lay a large, warm hand on Belle’s shoulder.  “It’s for the best, my girl.  The fairies will protect you from that beast, you’ll see.”

“I love you,” Belle tells them while a sob aches in her throat, “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, Belle!” Colette cries, pulling her into a tight hug.  Maurice’s arms soon drape around them both.  “I’m not surprised, you know,” Colette mutters thickly, “If anyone had a pure heart in this world, it’s you.”

What Belle wouldn’t give in this moment for a tarnished heart.  Instead, she must extract herself from her parents’ final embrace, sniffling as she shuffles back to the fairy.  “I’m ready,” she lies in a whisper.

Without another word, the fairy wraps them in her magic, and they disappear.

\---

Being sheltered by the fairies is hardly the worst fate imaginable.  Belle and her fellow pure-hearted folk live in small cabins that dot a green valley bordered by tall mountains.  The fairies’ strongest wards swirl in colorful auroras in the sky overhead.  Belle helps out with farming and laundry and any other tasks she can find to stave off boredom.  The fairies promised to bring her books from home, but they never seem to get around to it.  Luckily some of their own books have made it to the valley, and Belle has enjoyed translating them.  Whenever possible she looks for information on pure hearts, just what it means to have one and what use they’d be to the Dark One.

No matter what she does Belle’s homesickness dogs her every waking hour.  She aches for the Marshlands, or at the very least to know how her friends and family are doing.  She receives letters from Colette now and then, but something in their tone feels guarded.  Belle is certain Colette would hide bad news to keep her daughter calm in captivity.  It only spikes Belle’s worry more.

Looming over all is the continuous threat of the supreme Dark One, though as far as Belle can see he still hasn’t drowned the world in death and despair as expected.  It’s been almost a year now.  What is he waiting for?  She has no idea, and her fear is slowly shifting to curiosity about the sorcerer who chooses not to crush everyone under his boot now that he can.

Seven months into Belle’s stay in the valley, Colette’s letters stop.  If Belle was worried before, she’s terrified now.  She can hardly sleep or eat.  She can’t focus enough to translate a full sentence from her latest fairy book.  The mountains surrounding the valley seem to grow higher every day.

When she catches yet another of the fairy minders casting furtive glances her way, Belle can’t take it anymore.  She waits until evening, then crouches in the bushes near one of the tiny doors the fairies use to access their own living spaces within the mountains.  As soft pale light approaches the door, Belle lunges out and clamps her hands around the fairy, pressing her into the ground between Belle’s knees.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says.  Indeed, every instinct is screaming for her to let go.  Surely a pure-hearted person wouldn’t be capable of this.  Maybe afterwards they’ll expel her.  “But I _need_ to know what’s happening in the Marshlands.  Please tell me.”

Fear and a healthy dose of guilt fill the fairy’s face as she stares up at Belle with wide eyes and her lips pressed into a thin line.

“I deserve to know, so _tell me,_ ” Belle growls, grip tightening even as her muscles tremble with the need to loosen it.

“Ogres,” the fairy peeps, “There are ogres in the Marshlands.”

Horror turns Belle’s limbs rubbery and weak.  “Did the Dark One send them?”

The fairy shakes her head.

“W-what about Collioure?  What about my home?  My friends, my family?”

The fairy’s mouth cinches shut again.

“ _Tell me!_ ” Belle wails, vision blurring with tears as she gives the fairy a jarring shake.

“Lady Colette has died!  A horde destroyed the library while she was trying to save the books!”

Belle’s precious pure heart cracks in her chest.  Her mouth gapes open and a sob falls out.  The fairy struggles out of her now limp grasp as she slumps onto her side and weeps in gulping, ragged breaths.  Belle distantly feels hands on her arm and head- the fairy has turned human-sized and sits next to her, making soft sounds of comfort.  Guilt burns in Belle’s broken heart and she curls up even tighter.

Eventually, she returns to herself enough to ask in a rough whisper, “Why?  Why didn’t the fairies protect us- my people?”

“I don’t...” she trails off and her sad tone shifts to firm conviction, “We need to stop the Dark One.  He must be contained.”

The Dark One isn’t doing anything.  The fairies aren’t doing anything, aside from locking up Belle and those like her.  And while these great forces of magic indulge in their standoff, ogre hordes are smashing and stomping villages into rubble.

Belle lurches onto her knees, then staggers to her feet, moving like her bones are made of lead.  She walks away without a word.

\---

One thing Belle has learned while reading fairy books is that while their wards are extremely good at keeping things out, they aren’t always as good at keeping things in.  Of course they never thought one of their pure hearts would want to leave, and risk getting caught by the Dark One.  The next evening, Belle can basically walk right out of the valley.

He’s become a creature of apocalyptic evil in everyone’s eyes so quickly, it seems.  Yes, he was hated and feared before he reforged Excalibur, but that didn’t stop people from going to him for help.  And though they may have regretted it, Belle’s heard the stories and it’s her opinion that they agreed to his terms and therefore don’t have much of an excuse to be dismayed by the outcome.  The Dark One is surely malevolent, but he’s not without reason.  He doesn’t pillage and plunder, he deals.  At least, that’s what he did before.  Belle can’t be certain what he’s become now.

But she has to do this.  For the memory of her mother.  For whatever remains of her home.

Belle holds on to this conviction as hard as she can while negotiating a narrow passage along which the valley’s stream rushes swift and white.  She’s halfway through when the air turns thick and the wards’ auroras swirl before her eyes.  She keeps moving, inching forward, praying she’s right about fairy magic and the air isn’t about to turn from thick to solid.  With one tight squeeze where her lungs refuse to expand, she emerges with a gasp on the other side of the wards.

There’s no going back now, unless and until the fairies find her.  They won’t risk expelling her, but she can only imagine what other punishment they’ll mete out for her disobedience.  This is of course assuming she succeeds and the Dark One doesn’t cut her down instantly.  After so many months under the fairies’ protection, Belle suddenly feels very small and fragile outside of it.  Her pure heart thumps and she could almost imagine it shining like a beacon, calling for the Dark One to rip it from her chest.  It’s possible this was a mistake.

 _For my family.  For my friends.  For my home._   Belle swallows hard and says, “Rumpelstiltskin, I need help.  Rumpelstiltskin, come find me.  Rumpelstiltskin, I want to make a deal with you.”

All is still on the rocky slope where Belle has chosen to call the Dark One.  The stream flows a short distance away, but otherwise the world is silent.  A cold breeze whips by Belle.  She flinches and spins around, peering into the deepening gloom.  She sees no one.  But then, a certain patch of shadows seems a bit thicker, seems to contain more shapes than it should...

“A deal, you say?”

Belle squeaks and jumps back as the shapes suddenly join into the form of one lizard-skinned man, encased in leather beneath a heavy cloak, perched on a large rock.  A golden scabbard is strapped to his hip, the large red gem in Excalibur’s hilt managing to catch the last of glimmers of daylight.

Rumpelstiltskin’s strange eyes look away from Belle’s face and his lip curls, revealing stained teeth.  “This is a fairy stronghold,” he remarks with clear distaste.  His gaze drops to her again, and in a flash he’s one step away, and his black-nailed fingertips light on her chest.  Belle’s breath stops as she waits for his hand to sink past her ribs.  “And you... are a pure heart.”

His creaky voice is almost soft then, almost wondering.  Belle blinks and clears her head with a tiny shake.  “You want a pure heart.  And I need help.”

His fingertips fall away from her chest so that he might fling his hand in a dismissive gesture.  “Nonsense!  What help do you need that the fairies won’t give you?  Though, fair warning, they _lie_.”

“The fairies are too busy worrying about you.  I can’t wait for them to make time for me.  But I have something you want.  You can have it, for a price.”

This is the moment she finds out if he’s still a dealmaker, or if he’s become something much, much darker.  He tilts his head, studying her.  “You’ll give me your heart, willingly?”

“Only if you help me.”

His thumb and first finger rub against each other as he asks, “Help you- how?”

“Protect my home.  The Marshlands have been invaded by ogres.  They’ve already-”  Belle’s throat constricts, but she forces the hated words out, “They’ve already killed my mother.  I can’t let my home be destroyed.”

“You know the prophecy that brought you into the fairies gentle clutches, yes?  You’re willing to doom the whole of reality to save your little town?”

“If you swear to protect it, then it doesn’t matter what else you do, where else you go.  My friends and family will all live.”

A sneer spreads across Rumpelstiltskin’s face.  “That doesn’t seem very pure-hearted of you, my lady, to sacrifice all for your own very personal gain.”

“I don’t care.”  This is perhaps the biggest lie Belle has ever told.  If the worst comes to pass, she might not survive the crushing weight of her guilt.  But she still has to do this.

The sneer fades.  He steps close again, locking eyes with Belle.  “You give your heart willingly?”

“Will you protect my home?”

“Yes.  You have my word.”

Belle’s relief is so great it almost hurts.  “Then you can have my heart.”

Rumpelstiltskin wags his head and lets out a tiny titter, “Deal.”  He snaps his fingers, and purple smoke surrounds them, whisking them far away from the fairy’s protection before Belle can blink.

\---

Belle staggers and gapes at her new surroundings.  It’s a grand hall wreathed in shadows.  Rumpelstiltskin casts a fireball into the hearth, making it burst into flame.  Its light allows Belle to identify a long table with one chair, the infamous spinning wheel in a corner, some pedestals bearing trophies, and something that looks like a free-standing iron gate at the room’s far end.

“Why- why did you bring me here?” she asks, proud that her voice is only a little shaky.

Rumpelstiltskin doesn’t answer.  He goes to the gate and lays a hand on it.  Arcane sigils light up in sickly green all over its black surface.

“Wait, are you going to another world now?” Belle says, walking toward him, “You can’t!  You gave you me your word you’d protect my home.  You’ve not cast a spell or done anything yet!”

“If I’d known you’d be so noisy, I would’ve scooped out your heart and left you on the mountainside,” he grumbles, then swings around to face her, “I will keep my word.  But I need to know.  I need to see what a pure heart can do first.”

Before she can ask anything else, he grabs her hand and sets it on part of the gate.  A pulse shoots up her arm and seems to wrap around her heart.  She can’t remove her hand from it, all she can do is watch as Rumpelstiltskin draws Excalibur from its scabbard.  He whispers something across the blade, and a shimmer of gold forms around it in the shape of a key.  He gives the sword a spin, then aims its tip directly at the center of the gate.  He advances slowly, until it touches the gate and begins to press in, gold sparks bursting from the point of entry.

Pain lances up Belle’s arm and into her heart.  “Stop!” she cries, already cringing and twisting in a vain effort to get away.

“No, not yet, wait...” Rumpelstiltskin murmurs, gaze locked on the gate.

“Please, it hurts!”

“It has to work.  It has to...”

Belle screams, and the gate flashes white an instant before Rumpelstiltskin goes flying backwards.  He lands in a heap, Excalibur clattering across the floor.  Whatever was holding Belle’s hand to the gate releases her, and she falls to her knees, trembling and weak.

Rumpelstiltskin rolls to all fours, muttering, “No.  No, no, no, no, NO!”  He jumps up and stomps to the gate.  Belle can do nothing but shrink away and watch the sorcerer smash and kick at it, hurling snarled curses in a blind rage.  Eventually his anger seems to give out, and he joins Belle on his knees, head lowered, shoulders shaking with not quite silent sobs.

Belle watches him, curiosity growing as her pain recedes.  This isn’t a fiend who’s upset he can’t wreak havoc across the worlds.  Nothing like that.  She can’t imagine what she’s really seeing, and she also can’t help noticing Excalibur lying abandoned on the floor.  However, she barely moves an inch toward it before Rumpelstiltskin is on his feet again, this time stomping toward her.

“You gave your heart willingly,” he snarls, “You agreed to it!”

Belle does her best not to shrink, instead shooting a sharp glare up at him.  “I gave my heart in exchange for the help my people need.  I would’ve thought you’d know the difference between free consent and coercion.  If you need someone to give you their pure heart for nothing, I’m afraid you’re going to wait a very long time, Dark One.”

He doesn’t respond, simply stares at her through a completely unreadable mask.

“So, you’ve done your experiment and it failed,” Belle continues, “But you still owe me your help.  Are you going to give it, or are you a liar as well?”

“The only liar in this castle is _you_ , dearie,” he growls, then vanishes in a puff of purple smoke.  Excalibur vanishes with him.

Belle can only hope he’s gone to the Marshlands to keep his word.  For her part, she levers herself off the floor, heart giving a sore twinge as she gets to her feet.  She shuffles over to kneel before the fire, the only life and warmth in this shadowy tomb of a place.

\---

Rumpelstiltskin returns days later, and roundly ignores Belle’s questions about her home.  In fact he seems committed to ignoring her entire existence, leaving Belle to wander the halls when she isn’t buried in one of the books in the Dark Castle’s massive library.  Sometimes she carries a stack of volumes to read in front of the great hall’s hearth.  She often finds Rumpelstiltskin there at his wheel, spinning in silence.  That’s all he seems to do, the great demon Dark One, the invincible wielder of Excalibur.  Everyone’s wondered for so long, now Belle knows.

As in the fairies’ valley, fear and worry slowly eat into her.  Rumpelstiltskin gave her his word, and he said he didn’t lie- but that doesn’t mean for sure that her people are safe and well.  She gravitates toward the maps in the library, and soon finds herself working out a route between the Dark Castle and the Marshlands.  It’s a long way, farther than she’s ever traveled alone before.  But then, it can’t be any scarier than calling upon the Dark One and extracting a deal from him.  She can do what she has to do.

And so, one morning she gathers supplies into a travel sack, puts on the sturdy boots, breeches, and jerkin she finds in a wardrobe, and sneaks out through the kitchens.  Despite the obvious fact that she has every reason to want to escape the Dark One, inexplicable guilt still pricks at her.  Perhaps she’d understand if she knew what caused his palpable grief when gate didn’t open...  It doesn’t matter.  She needs to go home.  She needs to know her people are protected.

She walks along the snowy pass away from the Dark Castle with her breath held, but Rumpelstiltskin doesn’t come roaring out to reclaim her.  She is glad about that.  Definitely glad.

She reaches a forest-lined road and keeps going until the sun sinks among the tree trunks.  There is a crossroad up ahead- she’ll wait until full light to study the map she drew and decide which path to take.  She picks a spot to make camp just a little ways off the road, certain in her assumption that no bandits would dare come this close to the Dark Castle.

She’s three steps into the woods when smoke surrounds her and the trees are replaced by a rocky promontory.  Wind whips by, carrying the sound of crashing waves below.  Belle staggers and has a second to think Rumpelstiltskin has chosen to not only drag her back but inflict some kind of punishment when a female voice says, “Well, well, look what we found.”

Belle turns to find three women watching her with predatory interest.  One of them, tall and rail-thin with half-white and half-black hair, squints at her, “That is the girl, isn’t it?  Not Rumpel in a particularly clever disguise.  Rumpel, are you trying out a new look?  It’s lovely, darling, but not your color.”

“W-who are you?” Belle forces out.  She has a dagger in a sheath at her hip, but doesn’t imagine it will be any use against these women.  One of them appears to be balanced on an array of green tentacles.

The woman in the center, with a slightly reptilian cast to her face below a horned headdress, stalks forward, grabs Belle’s shoulder, and shoves her free hand into Belle’s chest, scooping out her heart.  Belle can only stare in quickly dulling horror while the organ thumps gently in the woman’s grip.  Within its deep pink glow, there is a crystalline glimmer.

“It’s her.  The pure heart,” the woman says.

“Why are you doing this?” Belle whispers.

“Well, it was all anyone talked about when Rumpelstiltskin got his hands on a pure heart like the prophecy warned.  But then, less than a day after he’s got it in his castle, he’s off saving villages from ogre hordes like some kind of knight errant.  We had to know more.”  
  
The tentacle woman crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.  “That must be one powerful ticker you have.  Or, _used_ to have.”

“Indeed, darling,” says the thin woman, “Pure hearts were already a precious commodity.  Now that the fairies have locked them all up, they’re worth, well...  Whatever we ask for.”

Belle is aware of her burgeoning guilt, though it’s distant and diffuse.  She should’ve trusted Rumpelstiltskin.  And now she’s paying the price for it.  At least the Marshlands are safe.  No matter what else happens, she can be at peace about that.

“Allow me to make the first offer, dearies!”

Belle and her captors flinch at the sudden shout from above.  Rumpelstiltskin stands on the point of an outcropping, hip cocked with one hand resting on Excalibur’s pommel.

In a flash, he’s standing next to the horned woman.  “In exchange for the pure heart, I’ll allow you to live, deal?  Or, should I make you ask for it first?”

She gives him a venomous glare, and squeezes Belle’s heart.  Pain spikes through her and she gasps and groans and wavers on her feet.

“Kill her and your next breath will be your last,” Rumpelstiltskin warns, voice gone hard and tight as if he’s actually concerned.

“What a way to go though, huh?” the woman muses, “Saving the worlds from the Dark One’s scourge.  Who knew being a hero was so easy?”

“That’s an interesting notion, Maleficent, but gamble with your own life,” the tentacle woman remarks sharply, her slimy appendages flicking like an agitated cat’s tail.

“I’m afraid I must agree with Ursula,” the thin woman says before focusing on Rumpelstiltskin, “Look, we’ve come all this way and waited all this time for a glimpse of your girl.  Toss us a little something, Rumpel, and we’ll be out of your hair, no harm no foul.”

He hums and wags his head in a display of contemplation.  Then he holds out a hand and smoke swirls around it, dissipating to reveal a silver gauntlet which he drops on the dirt.  “There’s a shiny bauble for you.  It’s the real thing too.  Ought to keep you in furs and gin for a long while, Cruella.”  He holds up a finger, “Ah, and, one last thing, if I ever see your faces again, you die on Excalibur’s blade.  So, if you’ll kindly surrender the pure heart...”

Maleficent doesn’t stop glaring even as she shoves Belle’s heart into her chest so hard she tips backwards.  Rumpelstiltskin catches her, and keeps her upright with a careful grip.  She claps a hand over her mouth to hold in a scream as delayed mortal terror roars through her, leaving her trembling in Rumpelstiltskin’s arms.

Ursula curls a tentacle around the gauntlet and carries it off before sauntering away with her cohorts, throwing a wink in Belle and Rumpelstiltskin’s direction as she goes.  Once all is still and silent except for the rolling waves below, Belle dares to let out a shaky breath.

“I had to know my home was safe,” she murmurs, “That’s why I left.  I shouldn’t have.  I should have believed you’d keep your word.”

“I could’ve told you what I’d done,” Rumpelstiltskin replies, “But then, would you have believed me?”

“I would have preferred it to being left completely in the dark.”

“Right, understood.”

It’s the barest shadow of an apology, but Belle’s shocked to get even that.  She shuts her eyes as Rumpelstiltskin’s magic swirls up to bring them back to the Dark Castle.

\---

Belle is strangely relieved to be surrounded by familiar gloom once again.  If she’s not careful, this place might start to feel like home.

“Belle?”

She blinks away from her silly thoughts and looks to Rumpelstiltskin, “Yes?”

“Will you try the gate again?  Please?”

Belle is fairly certain her heart has been through more than enough excitement for one day.  But the “please” makes her pause.  “All right,” she says, and goes to her place at the gate, reaching out to grasp the black iron and feel magic race up her arm and wrap around her heart.  The green sigils light up again and she turns away as Rumpelstiltskin draws Excalibur and the key-shape made of golden sparkles forms.  Her eyes screw shut and her lips clamp around a cry as pain surges through her.  Maybe this is just a painful form of magic.  Maybe if she just endures long enough, it will work...

A whimper sneaks out of her and the pain immediately recedes.  She lets go of the gate as soon as she is able, turning to Rumpelstiltskin with a sigh.  “I’m grateful to you for saving me.  But that’s not the same as being willing.”

His gaze is downcast as he sheathes Excalibur.  “I know.”  He tosses an ironic grin in her direction, “I live in hope.”

“I’m not sure why you bothered,” Belle admits, “Surely you could’ve guessed my heart can’t do what you need it to do.”

“Waste not, want not,” he replies with a flick of his hand, “Who knows when another pure heart will come tripping out of the fairies’ stronghold?”

Belle half-shrugs, “It could be sooner than you think, if anyone is half as bored as I was in there.”

Rumpelstiltskin lets out a laugh at her quip, and Belle returns it.  She must be in some kind of shock, she supposes, to stand here joking with the Dark One moments after having her heart ripped out and nearly crushed by a gang of witches.  Still, she prefers it by far to the stony silence from before, so she won’t worry too much about it.

Now that Belle knows what kind of villains are out there hoping to snatch up a pure heart, she resigns herself to staying in the safe confines of the Dark Castle.  In case she does leave, Rumpelstiltskin gives her a small enchanted stone he says will fend off an attacker.  Belle would be annoyed about going from one de facto prison to another, but the book selection is much improved, and, shockingly, so has the company.  Since Rumpelstiltskin has quit the silent treatment, Belle rather enjoys spending her evenings in the great hall with him, chatting about nothing when her books don’t keep her interest.

However, one thing that doesn’t recommend the Dark Castle is the dust.  Rumpelstiltskin may not mind it, but it’s nearly choking Belle, who takes it upon herself to do some cleaning every day.  Poking around the castle’s treasures while she sweeps and polishes usually leads to quite interesting conversations in the great hall at night.

When the castle is in a more livable condition, Belle ventures into the even more neglected gardens.  Magic keeps away the worst of the cold as she clears out old brambles and weeds, amassing huge piles for tinder and compost.  One day as she’s pulling weeds from a flagstone path, a voice whispers her name.  She flinches and glances around.  “Is someone there?” she calls, but the gardens are as empty as ever.

Then she notices pebbles have started tumbling across the ground to one spot in front of her.  More and more gather together until they rise up and form a human shape.  A ripple passes through the collected stones, and they are replaced by a man with a chiseled face and shining armor.

“Belle, I have come for you,” he declares.

“Um, and you are...?”

He blinks at her.  “It is I, Sir Gaston.  You don’t remember?”

“Oh, right!” she gasps as her memory clicks.  She’s actually done her best to forget the ball in which she was forced to endure Gaston’s endless monologues that were brutally dull when not insufferably conceited.  She did not at all like how chummy Gaston’s father and Maurice seemed, beaming in a corner as if the wedding invitations had already been sent out.  If she appreciated anything about her internment by the fairies, it was the immediate halt it put to Gaston’s looming courtship.  “So, um, how are you?”

Gaston’s mouth opens and shuts a few times before he says, “I’ve hardly eaten or slept, worrying about you, trapped here in the Dark One’s lair.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  You needn’t worry though, I’m quite well.”

Pity fills Gaston’s face as he bends to one knee and reaches for her dirt-stained hand.  “My poor lady, you have no idea the danger you’re in.  But it’s all right.  I’m here to rescue you now.  Come.  I’ll return you to the fairies and all will be well.”

Belle can’t hide a grimace.  “Look, I know you might not believe me, but I’m fine here.  The Dark One... the prophecy isn’t going to be fulfilled, I promise.  Can you tell the fairies that for me, please?”

Gaston studies her and lets out a sorrowful sigh.  “It’s worse than I feared.  He has already corrupted your mind so you’ve lost all touch with reality.  What a shame.”

Belle furrows her brow.  “What?  No, Rumpelstiltskin hasn’t done anything to my mind.  Can you please just... tell...?”

Gaston has dropped her hand and levered himself back onto his feet.  Now he draws the sword hanging at his hip.  “The fairies made my mission clear.  If the pure heart cannot be saved, it must be destroyed.”

Shock and terror render Belle’s mind a perfect blank as Gaston takes a stance to drive his sword directly into her heart.  A split second before he lunges, she grabs the charmed stone Rumpelstiltskin gave her and casts it at Gaston.  Purple smoke instantly swallows him, then dissipates to reveal a red rose lying on the flagstones.  Fresh horror has Belle gaping at the thing that used to be Gaston for a long moment before she’s eventually able to shout, “R-Rumpelstiltskin, get out here NOW!”

She immediately feels the breeze of his arrival behind her.  “Gods above, what are you wailing about?”

Belle points a trembling finger at the rose.  “You didn’t say the stone did _that_.”

Rumpelstiltskin walks over to peer down at it.  “Oh.  I see.  Who came to pester you this time?”

Belle swallows hard.  Adrenaline is draining out of her, leaving behind clammy nausea.  “It was Sir Gaston.  The fairies sent him to take me back.  I refused.  So, he attacked me.”  She shifts until she can hug her knees to her chest.  “Is he dead?”

Rumpelstiltskin blinks away from his stormy glare at nothing and replies, “Well, he will be if he’s left on the ground.  Is that your wish?”

“No!  Just... I don’t know...”  She presses her cheek to her knee, eyes squeezing shut.

She hears Rumpelstiltskin come to sit beside her.  “Here, how about this?”

She looks up to see him wave a hand.  The rose vanishes and reappears planted next to the flagstone path.  “He’ll live like that?” she murmurs.

“If he can figure out how to put down roots, yes.  It’s up to him now.  Something tells me he may make a better flower than a knight.”

Belle nods grimly.  “The fairies told him to kill me, if I couldn’t be saved.”

“A _much_ better flower,” Rumpelstiltskin growls, then softens.  He fixes Belle with a puzzled squint.  “You said you refused to go with him.  Why?”

Belle looks away, though she knows she can’t hide the pink rushing to her cheeks any more than she can explain it.  She shrugs, “Like I said, it’s dull as tombs living with the fairies.  And now I know they want me dead, so it seems this is the safest place for me to be.”

“Yes, of course.”

Something in his voice, the faintest hint of disappointment, makes Belle turn to face him.  They are quite close to each other, she distantly notes.  His strange eyes almost fill her vision.  “Also... you’re not what people say you are.  And I’m glad.”

A smile nearly makes it onto his face before he smothers it in a frown and grumbles, “You don’t know what I am.”

“I know the prophecy is wrong.  Or, it’s being interpreted wrong.  You’re not going to use my heart to sow chaos and destruction across the worlds.  That’s not what you want.  So what _do_ you want?  I’d love to know.”

He gazes at her, eyes filling with the most beautiful mix of sorrow and hope.  She dares to reach out and brush her fingertips over the back of his hand.  The beautiful look winks out as he flinches away and his face shutters.  “It’s turned chilly.  You’ve done enough gardening for today, don’t you think?”

Belle sighs, but lets Rumpelstiltskin guide her to her feet and back into the Dark Castle.

\---

Something is different between Belle and Rumpelstiltskin after Gaston’s rescue/murder attempt, despite nothing outwardly changing.  Belle can’t explain it, she just knows it makes her stomach feel warm and her pulse stutter.  She’s being silly.  A silly girl with silly dreams that don’t have a prayer of coming true.  But she still finds her eyes following Rumpelstiltskin, and she wonders if she’ll ever be allowed to know what’s in his heart.

One afternoon finds her carrying a tea tray set for two into the great hall.  Her lips curve into a small smile at the familiar steady creak of Rumpelstiltskin’s wheel.  But then, the creak stops.  Belle turns to see Rumpelstiltskin frozen in place, staring at nothing with wide eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Belle asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Something is coming.”

The dread in his voice puts a chill in Belle’s stomach.  “What is it?”

“Magic.”

He jumps up from his wheel and Belle hurries to follow as he races up a tower that faces the castle’s gate.  Outside, under a shining shield of fairy magic, an army approaches.

Belle swallows, “Maybe we should’ve sent a note about what happened to Gaston.”

Rumpelstiltskin raises an eyebrow at her, then says, “This has been their plan all along.  They mean to curse me into oblivion.  Look.”  He sketches a circle in the air before them, creating a floating lens that acts as a spyglass.

“Is that Snow White and Queen Regina, together?” Belle marvels, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Nothing unites like a common enemy.  That used to be Snow for Regina and I, or at least that’s what I let Regina think.  But she’s turned on me at last, and she’s prepared to do her very worst.”

“You still have Excalibur.  They can’t truly believe magic will defeat you.”

“And if it’s the curse to end all curses, designed to tear through and rearrange reality itself?  They might have reason to be confident.”

“It- it doesn’t have to come to that,” Belle insists, with no evidence, “I can talk to them, tell them you aren’t planning to hurt anyone.”

“Oh, am I not?” he retorts, his voice gone low and dark, “I most certainly could.  There are forces within driving me to do just that.  Ever since I reforged Excalibur, and even before that, I’ve been resisting them, clinging to the last fragments of my sanity.”

“Why?” Belle shoots back, “If it’s all so difficult, what are you holding on for?”

Rumpelstiltskin clenches his jaw and looks away, but Belle presses on.

“It’s whatever is on the other side of the gate, isn’t it?  Something that you love.  Someone?  Someone who wouldn’t want you to fall to darkness.  That’s it, isn’t it?  Just _tell me_.”

As she lays a hand on his arm, he whips around and shouts, “Yes!  Yes.  My son.  My boy, who I lost, who I let go of when he needed me most.  I can find him.  With that gate, wherever he is, I _will_ find him.  He must know how sorry I am.  He must know I love him.”

There is the grief Belle glimpsed before, now pouring from Rumpelstiltskin in a wave that breaks her heart.  She smiles.  “Why didn’t you say so?”

A look of confusion shifts to determination on his face.  He unsheathes Excalibur and grips it tight.  “I can defeat their curse.  No magic can withstand Excalibur.  Wait here.”

He moves toward the stairwell, but Belle catches hold of his free hand.  “Don’t,” she says, “Just, come with me.”

“Belle, you can’t-”

“Trust me.”  Her heart feels larger than before, thumping steadily against her ribs.

Rumpelstiltskin lowers Excalibur to his side, and lets Belle walk them down from the tower.  A terrible wind kicks up around them.  The castle quakes and the sound of crunching stone comes from far too close.  They continue to walk until they reach the great hall where the black gate stands.  Belle reaches out her free hand, and sets it on the gate.  The sigils appear, but this time they are the same deep pink as her heart.

She turns and says, “Let’s go, Rumpel.  Now.”

With the castle crumbling around him, he stares at her in perfect wonder.  He lifts Excalibur and the golden key forms.  He clasps Belle’s hand tight and says, “Hold on to me.”

The key enters the gate and Belle’s heart feels as though it’s been released from a cage.  Pink light pours out, surrounding her and Rumpelstiltskin.  They walk through as the Dark Castle collapses.


End file.
